


Nameday

by kitkatkaylie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Please don’t kill me for the ending, References to Satin’s past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28513557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: Satin never really celebrated a nameday, but he knows that Jon is struggling with the loss of his family as his nameday approaches and decides to do something that might take his mind off his losses...
Relationships: Satin Flowers/Jon Snow
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Nameday

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic has references to Satin’s past with allusions to everything that goes along with that past

Satin had never celebrated his nameday before, not really. When he had been very little, when his mother was still alive, he had always received something small, whether that be an apple or once, memorably, a pair of gloves just after the first snowfall Oldtown had seen in near a century.

As he’d grown older though the celebrations had got smaller and smaller, until they had stopped the year he turned ten. The year his mother had died.

It was his eighteenth nameday when he arrived at the Wall, not that he had told anyone, not that anyone cared.

His eighteenth nameday when he arrived at the place he had been sentenced to spend the rest of his life after stabbing a merchant who had tried to rape one of the other girls in the brothel.

It was only luck really, that the man was a merchant and not a high lord, only luck that he had only committed murder and not treason.

Only Highborns were allowed to be sent to the Wall for treason, everyone else was just hanged.

It had not been until the next day that he had realised that it had been his nameday, and he had let out a wry laugh at the auspicious start to the rest of his life. 

It had been the last time he had thought about namedays. They had brought him too much pain otherwise, just like the rest of his few happy memories he had of life in the brothel. 

(The less he thought about the  _ unhappy  _ memories he had of life in the brothel the better.) 

He had been busy as well, training and taking his oaths. Fending off groping men, and fighting off the attacking Wildling army. Becoming the Lord Commander’s steward and falling in love with Jon Snow.

It was the last of those that had made him start thinking of namedays again, when Jon had started talking of the way he and his family had celebrated them.

His Lord Commander had sounded so wistful when speaking of his family and past namedays, that Satin had found himself wanting to do something for him. He knew that Jon’s nameday was coming up, he had mentioned it when they were deep in their cups one evening, sitting by the fire and sharing tales of their lives before the Watch.

He wanted to do something for Jon, something that would help him take his mind off of all the stress of being Lord Commander and hopefully give him a better nameday than the one where he had learned of his brother’s death.

But he was not sure what.

Samwell Tarly was away, and the others who Jon was friends with were either aiding the settling in of the Wildlings at the other keeps, or were no longer speaking to the Lord Commander. All that meant that he could not arrange for a meal or gathering of friends and family, as Jon had spoken of enjoying when he lived in Winterfell. Instead whatever Satin planned would have to be smaller, quieter, private.

It was probably better that way, Jon always seemed so tired these days anyway, and a large event might have just worn him out further. At least with just Satin and Ghost he would not have to be any more sociable than he wanted to be.

In the week leading up to Jon’s nameday Satin made numerous preparations, arranging for trades and for a certain meal to be prepared on the day itself. On Jon’s actual nameday he dealt with all the small things that just needed finalising, with collecting things and setting up Jon’s chamber so that it was a little snore special than usual.

It was only branches snapped from an evergreen and lengths of bright fabric that must have once belonged to a visitor that he used to decorate, but it did add an almost festive feel to the room. Better than blank stone walls and dark furniture anyway.

The small gift he had managed to get for Jon lay upon the table, and with it was some of the better ale, and the meal which Satin knew Jon liked best: rabbit stew.

The only thing missing was Jon himself, for even Ghost was lying before the fire, his fur freshly brushed and his red eyes closed in contentment.

It would not be many minutes before Jon arrived though, not when he would know that Satin would already have his dinner waiting for him, as he did every night.

And sure enough, Jon stepped through the door just as Satin stirred the stew in its tiny pot above the fire once more.

“Satin?” He said in a tone of obvious surprise as he took in the room, “What’s all this?”

Satin turned to him with a smile, and crossed the room to take his cloak and sword, “Happy Nameday, Jon.”

Jon’s eyes widened, and although he would surely deny it, Satin saw him blink back a tear or two.

“Thank you.” He said softly, “I had not thought I would be celebrating it at all this year.”

Satin waited until he was safely ensconced at the table with a bowl of steaming food in front of him before he answered.

“I thought it might do you some good, to have an evening off, and well, it  _ is  _ your nameday.”

Jon grinned at him, the first full grin Satin had seen him wear in quite a while, “I had almost forgotten my own nameday. Thank you, really, I suppose I just got so stressed regarding King Stannis, and the Boltons’ letter, and rearranging the leadership of the trip to Hardholme that it must have slipped my mind entirely.”

Satin swallowed his mouthful of food and returned Jon’s grin, “It was my pleasure to do so.”

They ate in companionable silence, enjoying the sense of warmth that only really came from eating something piping hot. 

It was once they finished that Satin gave Jon his gift, one he had wrapped in a scrap of cloth so that Jon would not notice it when he entered.

“This is beautiful.” Jon gasped, as he uncovered the small carved wolf, “Wherever did you get it from?”

“One of the men carves, but he cannot sew, so I darned his socks for him in exchange for the carving. I asked him to make it look like Ghost.”

Jon’s fingers traced the pale wood of the carving reverently, even the eyes had been dotted with a dab of red paint to make them truly look like Ghost’s eyes.

“There is a second gift as well, if you want it.” Satin continued nervously, “I would kiss you if I may?”

Jon did not say anything to that, merely stared at him in quite some shock, but finally he nodded slightly. It was agreement enough for Satin to slowly start to press his lips against Jon’s, giving enough warning that he would still be able to move away if he decided he did not want it.

When he did not move away, that was when Satin started to kiss Jon properly, using as many tricks as he had learnt in the brothel as he thought would bring Jon pleasure. It felt different, using them on someone he wanted to be kissing, someone he had feelings for, and Satin found he rather enjoyed it. 

“How- how long?” Jon stuttered, his eyes wide once Satin had finished kissing him.

“A while.” Satin admitted ruefully, “You are a very easy man to fall in love with.”

Jo took a deep, steadying breath and then leaned forwards to press a kiss of his own against Satin’s lips.

“I have wanted to do that for a while as well.” He said once they had separated, “But I was terrified of abusing my position.”

“It’s a good thing I initiated it then, isn’t it?” 

Satin wrapped his arms around Jon and started to kiss him again, peppering his face with tiny kisses, leaving long lingering ones on his lips, and showing him all the affection he possibly could.

And Jon kissed him back.

He could have lost himself in the simple pleasure of kissing someone he loved, had the door not knocked just as he was pressing another kiss to the tip of Jon’s nose. 

The sharp knock rattled the door, and Jon pulled away with obvious reluctance.

“Lord Commander! Lord Commander, come quick, you are needed in the courtyard, there’s been a sighting of Benjen Stark!”

Jon shot to his feet with blatant hope on his face, a hope that made Satin smile to see.

“Go,” He said gently, “Go and see what is happening in the courtyard. I will still be here when you get back.”

Jon pressed another quick kiss to his lips, “I shall be back as soon as I can, this I swear to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @istaricelebelasse


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